


euphemize me

by erebones



Series: time on her side [3]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Declarations Of Love, Euphemisms, F/F, Sexual Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 11:15:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11531076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erebones/pseuds/erebones
Summary: Chirrut is ridiculous. Baze laughs until she cries.





	euphemize me

**Author's Note:**

> I blame this on everyone who was in the stream last week. I said something about not liking the word "pussy" and I was immediately inundated with alternatives, all of them horrible--I think I got most or all of them in here (thanks hal for saving the list...). Someone then suggested that lesbian Chirrut use these terms to make Baze laugh in bed, which is how I got here, on my knees begging for forgiveness for this absurdity. Cheers <3

Chirrut tips her head back against the pillow and sighs, long and slow and decadent, as Baze presses the tip of the dildo inside. She reaches down for a better grip, fingers curling around the leather harness strapped to Baze's hips. Exhales.

" _Choo-choo, motherfucker_."

Baze grinds to a halt. " _What_ did you just say?"

Chirrut smirks. "You heard me."

"My cock is not a _train_ , Chirrut."

"Of course it is. And it's coming into Grand Central Station."

Baze sits back on her heels with a huff and folds her arms across her chest. Chirrut is _pouting_ now, of all things. Knees still splayed, face flushed, nipples rosy-red and slick from Baze’s mouth. Normally Baze would be scrambling to touch as much of her as she could get her hands on, but now she’s at a loss.

“You know, if you wanted a good dicking down, there are better ways to go about it than by referring to your vagina as _Grand Central Station._ ”

“Oh, did you not like that one?” Chirrut asks innocently. She rubs a coy finger across her bottom lip while her other hand wanders, following the strap biting into Baze’s thigh to where her cock juts proudly, purple and gleaming with lube. Chirrut toys with the base, rubbing it back against Baze’s clit, and Baze shuts her eyes. “I have more.”

“Enlighten me,” she says between gritted teeth. It’s fruitless to get annoyed with Chirrut when she’s in a mood—which is _all the time_ lately, it feels like. Chirrut seems determined to get under her skin today in particular, and Baze refuses to let her.

“Ohhhh let’s see. I have a few favorites.” Chirrut pops her finger out of her mouth and rubs idle circles around one small, peaked nipple. Baze’s breath catches. “Ladybits is always a classic, although factually inaccurate depending on who they belong to. Vajayjay’s good, too.”

“If you’re in eighth grade, maybe,” Baze snorts. She reaches beyond Chirrut to grab a pillow and manhandles it under her hips. Chirrut squeaks and grabs her harness.

“I suppose you wouldn’t approve of vajimjam, then?”

“Definitely not.” Baze grins down at her, part amusement, part competition. It seems to her that there’s only one way to stop Chirrut from being ridiculous, and dammit, she’s going to win this game. She tilts her hips just so and drags the shaft of the dildo along Chirrut’s labia. There’s a vibrating function, but she keeps it simple for now, sliding back and forth without urgency, without pressure.

Chirrut’s fingers tangle in the sheets now, and her breaths come in short puffs. “I mean—if we’re—talking about _dicks_ ,” she huffs, straining up for more contact, “which, admittedly, is new for me—”

“Tell me,” Baze says shortly. She considers giving Chirrut’s sprawled-open flank a good smack, and decides to save it.

Chirrut’s face screws up as the dildo’s head slides against her clitoris. “...dick dungeon.”

A snort escapes before Baze can stop it. “It’s more of a dildo pillow right now, I think.”

“Ooh! A rhyme!” Chirrut exclaims. She reaches out, up, and Baze lets her drag her down for a kiss. Chirrut’s mouth is open and wet, demanding, but Baze kisses back lightly and withdraws before things can get too messy. Chirrut pouts. “Bazey, _please_. My cock holster feels so _empty_.”

Baze snort-laughs and leans back again, grinding their hips together. If she angles her hips just right she can feel the dildo’s base rubbing at her core. Her blood pounds hot and sluggish through her veins, turned on in spite of Chirrut’s absurdity. “You want my love hammer, baby? Want me to take you to pound town?”

Chirrut cackles. “Oooh sweetheart, my love oyster is so _lonely_. Come make my lady cave feel good.”

Baze chokes and grabs her hips. “Chirrut, fuck’s sake, you’re _absurd_.”

“You love it,” Chirrut says, and shouts when Baze presses inside. She’s not rough about it, or sudden—the strapon is a new weapon in their sexual arsenal, and oh god, now Baze’s head is filled with euphemisms too. But Chirrut makes a racket all the same. “Baze! Baze, oh fuck, _fuck—_ skewer me with your throbbing meat wand, I need it—”

“If you don’t shut up,” Baze gasps, “I’m going to be laughing too hard to fuck you.”

Chirrut cups her face and grins, noses pressed flat together. Through her giggles and her occasional hitched, breathy moans, she manages to whimper, “Either way— _ah_ —who’s the real winner here?”

“Are you saying your—um—vaginer _doesn’t_ want a good orgasm or two?”

“ _Vaginer_ ,” Chirrut scoffs. “Weak. And look—” She stops to gasp for breath as Baze fucks her harder, slowing at the peak of every thrust to grind against her clit. “Orgasm is—is—just—a _perk_ of sex. We’ve—discussed this. Oh, fuck…”

“And somehow I’m getting you there anyway,” Baze preens. She hooks one hand beneath Chirrut’s knee and holds her open, relishing the wet, slapping sounds, the joyous bounce and jiggle of Chirrut’s breasts. Fucking is hard work and she’s working up a sweat, soaking her sports bra a dark charcoal grey, but Chirrut is moaning steadily now and Baze isn’t going to stop for anything. Not even for—

“Yes! Oh yes, fuck me, hammer my—”

“Shut _up_ ,” Baze says, covering her mouth with one hand. Chirrut’s pale eyes fly open wide and Baze can feel the damp exhale of an unvoiced scream against her palm as Chirrut comes. Baze fucks her through it, slowing a little in the aftermath, but Chirrut isn’t done with her yet.

“Mmmm, give me more, sweetheart,” she slurs. When Baze takes her hand away Chirrut chases it, sucking two fingers into her mouth before releasing them with a wet _pop_. “There’s room in Schlongport for another couple rounds.”

Baze slumps. She’s still turned on, by some miracle, but the orgasm she’d been chasing has fizzled. And yet, true to Chirrut’s word, she isn’t upset.

“If you don’t mind, dear heart, my throbbing meat wand is starting to cut off the circulation in my legs.”

“I told you you fastened it too tightly,” Chirrut tsks. She sits up slow, limbs moving like underwater reeds in a sluggish current, and fumbles for the buckles. “Come lay next to me and let me eat you out.”

“An acceptable compromise.” Baze flops onto her back with a grunt and unzips the front of her sports bra. In spite of the sweat, Chirrut buries her face there, kissing her softly, teasing her nipples until they’re flushed and hard. “What, no more euphemisms?”

Chirrut curls her tongue in the generous dip of her navel and smiles. “I had my fun.” Her fingers follow, trailing down, down between her thighs. Baze exhales and grows still. “Now it’s time for me to give you yours. Unless you _really_ want me to—”

“No! No, that’s okay—that’s— _oh_.” Baze shuts her thighs around Chirrut’s ears, toes delving into the mattress. “That’s just fucking beautiful.”

Chirrut seems to agree. She surfaces a few minutes later, face drenched, grinning with all her teeth. She crawls up Baze’s body and plasters herself there, chin tucked into Baze’s throat. “You know it’s okay to laugh during sex, right?”

Baze blinks up at the ceiling in hazy, post-orgasmic surprise. “Do I not? Laugh during sex, I mean.”

“Occasionally. Not as much as you used to.” Chirrut lets the observation rest a minute. Lets Baze breathe. Then she says, without mercy, “Do you like having sex with me, Baze?”

Baze’s giddy heartbeat grinds to a halt. “What kind of question is that?”

“A serious one. And I’d like you to answer it.”

She’s never heard Chirrut sound so stern before. She wants to move away, make some space, but Chirrut’s weight against her pins her down—rolling her off and escaping would be easy enough, physically, but it would also be an admission. An admission Baze isn’t ready to make. “Of course I like having sex with you. I need to practice with the strapon I think, but. Yeah,” she finishes lamely. “Why d’you ask?”

Chirrut’s demeanor softens and she draws little swirly patterns on Baze’s sternum. “You seem sad sometimes. Even when we’re having sex. I just thought—I missed hearing you laugh. Especially when we’re naked. There’s just something so nice about laughing when you’re naked with someone you love.”

Baze quivers. She means to choke the words down, a bitter pill she’s grown used to swallowing, but somehow they bubble up instead. “Do you love me?”

Chirrut pauses. “Of course I do. What kind of—was that ever in doubt?” She lifts up on one elbow as if to see Baze better, but cups her cheek in one hand. Not invasive, just… holding. “Baze…”

“ _What_? You never said it before, okay?” Baze blinks rapidly, horrified by the watery burn in her eyes.

“Bazey. You know I’m yours for good, don’t you? I’m not—I’m not good at words, but. It’s you or it’s no one.” Chirrut’s smooth brow pulls into a furrow that Baze longs to kiss. But she stays where she is, breathless with her own stupidity and Chirrut’s gentle confusion. “I thought you knew. I thought I was making it obvious.”

Baze inhales through her mouth to avoid sniffling but her voice comes out all thick regardless. “You know I’m a fucking idiot, Chirrut. I need things spelled out or they go right over my head.”

“You’re _not_ an idiot,” Chirrut says, stern again. She rolls on top of Baze all the way, breasts together, bellies together, legs tangled in the sheets. Her hands cup Baze’s cheeks with tenderness. “Or—okay, maybe you are, but you’re _my_ idiot. And I’m yours, for as long as we both shall live, amen.”

Baze snorts, jiggling Chirrut back and forth. “Well that feels a bit—blasphemous.”

“But doesn’t it feel _right_?”

Baze bites her lip. Her eyes are full of water but that’s okay—Chirrut loves her anyway. “Yeah. It does.”

Chirrut smiles and lays her head down to let Baze cry in peace.


End file.
